The Canada Boys
by pennaroyaltea
Summary: After the Strike, Cowboy, Mush, Blink and Skittery become rail-riders, living in boxcars all over the country. Soon after cowboy finds Mary and they fall in love. Though their simple life is shattered when tragedy strikes the rails. Rated for sex and deat
1. Chapter 1

Mary Hatchard awoke on the first Sunday morning of 1900 by a loud rap on the door. Mary recognized it as her mother's wedding ring, scratching away at the wood that closed off her and her brother's room from the other 2 rooms in her house.

Mary lumbered downstairs, staying close to the railing as she did so, so as not to bump in to her brother who was running up in the opposite direction. She rubbed her eyes and adjusted to the morning light.

1899 really is not that different then 1900 Mary thought to her self as she carefully opened the kitchen door incase a sibling was behind it.

This was true; every day in the Hatchard household was pretty much like the next. Mary would wake and dodge siblings as she wearily ate her breakfast and got dressed. She would then hitchhike over to Menemsha with her older brother and try to sell odds and ends to rich tourists. On a sunny day they could collect about a dollar from their sales if they were lucky. During the winter they would migrate over to Gay Haven and sell next to the old Indian clothing shops. Mary and her brother Erwin's profits would then be collected by her mother when they got home as well as her brothers, Robert and Peter, who were still new in the business being only at the age of 8.

Mary finished her porridge, swallowing the mush hastily before grabbing her overcoat and heading for the door.

"Mary where are you going?" her father called to her from the kitchen.

She ignored him and kept walking, still in her nightdress. Mary could still hear her father calling as she got outside though she did not look back.

A small bundle containing a pair of trousers, underclothes, a long wool shirt and a news boy's cap were waiting for her outside the garden fence where she had placed it last night before she had gone to bed.

Mary snatched the bag off the ground as she opened the front gate. In back of her she could hear the screen porch open and then slam shut once more as her father stormed outside, groggy eyed with morning fatigue.

Mary proceeded to walk down the small, privet path leading to the main road. The gate opened as her father ran up to her and vigorously grabbed a hold of her sleeve. She jerked it away from him in disgust.

"Mary where the hell you think your going?" his southern accent stronger then ever.

Mary did not answer, her green, highly coveted eyes glued to a random tree along the side of the path.

"Huh? I said where the hell you going?" his face was scrunched in anger though his breath lacked the stench of liquor. He grabbed hold of her collar

"Do you hear me!" he shook her violently. Mary remained silent, her upper lip shaking as she stared strait ahead. Her father let go of her and slowly backed away, one foot in back of the other, his hands in his pockets as he looked her up and down

"Now I know your trying to run, and I ain't gonna stop you. You go run away and leave your mother and I but I ain't gonna try to stop you."

Mary was not surprised at her father's mood swings or at his violence. He turned around, looking their trashy, paint-peeling house over, from the broken windows to the laundry, draped over the porch swing.

He turned around once more and Mary felt her father's cold hand thrash her across the face, his wedding band cutting her skin.

Mary did not tend to her wound, she did not want to show any sense of weakness and sure enough her father slowly made his way back up to the house. She let the blood slowly slide down her cheek and on to the Martha's Vineyard dust.

She began to saunter down the path once again though this time her steps, burdened with emotions. She clutched the bundle of clothes, close to her body as the cold January wind blew through her nightgown.

Her father was right; she was deserting her family though by deserting her family she was deserting him as well.

She weighed the two variables in her mind as she came to where the path and the main road met. Her family had survived with out her older brother, Laurence for years. If anything, Mary's absence would only mean one less mouth to feed and one less way for her father to let out his anger. Though what if he moved on to peter.

Just thinking about her younger brother having a bloody lip or cheek made her grit her teeth with anger and hatred.

She pushed the thoughts from her head and outstretched her hand to summon an automobile.

Pretty soon a blue buggy appeared in the distance with a young woman in the driver's seat. The women stopped and opened the passenger's door for Mary to come in.

"Any where is fine ma'am." Mary said softly to the women who looked about 30 years old.

The women nodded, noticing the gash on Mary's face.

Laurence was dead. Everyone in her family knew it though both her father and her mother liked to think otherwise.

Her mother told their relatives that he was enrolled in the army and waited silently while the other mothers oohhed and aahhed their approval.

Her father just did not talk about him at all, leaving the room when the conversation came up.

Laurence was 16 when he left home and was 16 when he died.

Mary didn't know exactly what had happened to him, only that he was no longer alive. All the siblings of the Hatchard household had come to the conclusion that their father had killed him in the barn after he had declared his departure from the Hatchard family.

Mary preferred to believe her mother's lies, that he really had joined the army and was just waiting in a base camp somewhere until his help was needed.

Laurence was the reason Mary needed to escape. Laurence used to have scars as well.

The young women-who called her self Dana-, dropped Mary off in front of the Chilmark railroad, recommending she get a ticket to Canada or someplace far, far away.

Mary took the advice politely and shut the car door behind her.

She stuck her hands in to the pockets of her overcoat and glanced around the station for a place to change her clothing. She spotted a restroom and proceeded to walk towards it, finally wiping the blood off her cheek.

The restroom smelled of puke and mildew; light filtered through a small window and two stalls stood next to the wall.

Mary walked towards the stalls, trying hard to ignore the lavatory's stench. She quickly changed from her nightclothes into the clothes in the bundle, tucking her trousers into her tie up, saddle Mush and her shirt into her trousers.

Her outfit was one of a boy as she had planned for many had told her that the train bulls were fond of girls lacking an escort.

Mary exited the restroom, placing her newsboys cap atop her head and tucking her long, red hair beneath its cloth. She approached the ticket bench carefully, trying to make her strides as masculine as possible.

"How can I help you?" the ticket boy asked her informatively as he stacked maps one on top of the other, in the corner of his small booth.

"Ah… one train ticket please." Mary said, hollowing her voice to make it sound like one of a man.

The boy looked at her questionably, "where to and what time, Mr."

Mary scanned the departure boards in back of the boy's head and then remembered what the women in the car had told her.

"Canada and as soon as possible."

The boy looked at her dubiously again before reaching in to a box for her ticket.

"That will be 50 cents, Mr."

Mary went cold; she had thought a ticket would be less. She stuck her hands into her pockets searching for her money. Her hand came across the quarter she had packed for the train ticket.

Mary looked around almost guiltily, "all I have is 25 cents," she said forgetting to disguise her voice.

The ticket boy shook his head mockingly as if he had enjoyed seeing her plans ruined.

Mary slowly walked over to a bench in front of the platform, stuffing the money back into her pockets. I should have come more equipped; what train ticket in an almost bankrupt station, would really be only a quarter? Mary contemplated silently. She looked around the station; there was a small grocery store next to the restrooms and an inn sat across the street from the platform. I guess if I really needed to I could stay here a while, sleep at the inn and work off the costs as a maid. Mary looked down at her clothes Aw shit; all I brought were men's clothes. She leaned back once more, frustrated by her lack of preparation.

A loud noise could be heard in the distance, Mary turned towards the sound only before realizing it was the train that she would not be able to board. She buried her head in her hands, mulling over her next moves while regretting all the choices she had made within the last 24 hours. As the train pulled in, shouting could be heard aboard its cars. Suddenly 2 boys jumped out of one of the boxcars; in back of them were two train police waving their fists in their direction before going back inside the car. Mary looked up as the boys collected themselves from their jump, brushing off their coats and swinging their bags on to their backs once more. The boys looked to be about 17 or so, Mary thought as they began to walk past her, maybe a little older then herself but not by much. The one of the boys, a tall light skinned Negro with a caramel colored afro didn't seem to notice her presence as he walked by though the other boy glanced in her direction as he got up from his fall. He was tall and skinny with scraggily, long light brown hair and a slight farmer's tan on his neck. Around his neck was tied a dirty, red bandana.

"Get on the train, stupid," the boy muttered randomly to her as he walked by.

"Does it look like I have a ticket." she replied rudely to him, staring unseeingly at some point between her feet and the tracks.

He slowed down a bit though seemed to not want to loose the other boy he was with in the small crowd that had also gotten off of the train.

"So…" he replied uncaringly.

Mary was taken out of her trance and looked up at him; "So? What do you mean so?" she asked almost angrily.

He finally stopped and looked her over judgmentally.

"C'mon" he said casually, nodding his head over to the other boy who was now further ahead.

Mary scrambled up from her seat hastily and followed the boy over to where his friend was waiting for him.

"What's your name?" he asked almost uncaringly to Mary.

"Mary Beth Hatchard" she said, already anticipating his reaction.

Both boys stopped walking and stared at her.

"So you're saying you're a girl but you dressed up as a boy to buy tickets?" the boy chuckled "It's almost as if you don't want to get on that train" he said frankly before smiling an impish smile.

The boy led her over to a different ticket both then she had visited before, "all you gotta say is that you forgot your money at home and then just make a cute face and the sap will give ya the tickets. Remember you need 3, one for each of us. And make sure their for Canada"

Mary was about to argue with his plan (morally she did not feel seduction was the right course of action) when the boy grabbed her bundle and emptied out its contents on to the floor.

"What's this?" he asked questionably as he lifted her nightshirt off the ground using only his thumb and fore finger

"It's my night clothes, I didn't have time to change before I got here."

The boys stared at her once more only this time she felt like they were mocking her. "Are you a fool? No men's outfit is gonna get you on a train that you don't pay for, you can't flirt with another man if you are one. C'mon slip this over your clothes… no take off your coat first then the night thing or whatever you women wear."

Mary struggled to get the white gown over her hat and clothes but finally got it on. The fabric of the shirt rumpled where there were buttons and seams on her bottom clothes and the browns and tans showed through the white.

The boy stood back, looking at her critically, "it will do, now go."

The black boy pulled the other boy aside and whispered something in his ear. Mary guessed he was having second thoughts in befriending her though the first boy countered his argument. Since the boy with the bandana seemed to have no further instructions, Mary began to walk over to the ticket booth, removing the cap from her head and letting her long, vibrant hair cascade over her shoulders.

"Hello," Mary said in a coquettish voice "3 tickets to Canada and a date with you when I get back"

Mary looked mischievously at the man behind the counter who was balding and didn't seem to be very self-confidant.

"Ah… yeah sure… to both questions I mean." The man ruffled nervously through the stacks of tickets and fed 3 tickets through the slot in the glass that separated them.

Mary pretended to rummage through her bag as if she were looking for her money. "Oh poo," she said trying to sound exasperated "I seemed to have left my purse at home." She pretended to sulk.

"Ah… how… how bout on that… date… you can pay me back… and… and for now ill take it out of … my…money."

The man had broken out into a sweat and Mary almost felt bad for him. "Thank you so very much" she said her face brightening once more as she reached for the tickets and put them in her pocket under the gown. "You have been such a doll. See you when I get back" she blew a kiss and started to walk away. The boys motioned her over to where they were standing, in front of the tracks and out of the ticket man's view. The bandana boy started to reach for the tickets though Mary quickly pulled away.

"Sorry no. I got these tickets. Now what are your names and where are you headed."

"Yeah but with out our advice…"

"No, just answer the questions and ill give them to you."

Mary began to take off the nightshirt and stuff it in her bag.

"Oh well, it wont hurt for her to know our names," the black boy shrugged to the bandana boy.

The bandana boy shrugged back and began to talk "I am Cowboy and this here is Mush." He motioned to the other boy.

Mary snorted and the boys looked at her infuriated.

"Let me tell you girl, Cowboy is a respectable name."

The other boy named Mush corrected him, "should be a respectable name, you mean." Mary laughed before self consciously hushing her self. Mush side glanced Mary and looked content at her approval.

"Hey man, Mush ain't much better. Actually Mush is a hellaofalot worse then cowboy."

Mary chuckled again, amused by their argument. Cowboy looked her over once again only this time his eyes fell on the tickets.

"To hell with the tickets," he said wickedly as he grabbed the stubs out of Mary's hand and flung them across the tracks "let's just do hop on like we usually do."

Mush made a squiggly sign with his finger by his ear to show that Cowboy had truly gone insane. Cowboy spotted the hand motion and looked acerbically at Mush before replying.

"No I am not crazy Mush you bastard. I mean were gonna get caught sometime so why ruin our illegal records by actually purchasing something."

Mush made the sign again and Cowboy slapped the back of Mush's head with his hand.

"Thank you Mush you're very supportive. I think you're insane too."

Mary chucked and Cowboy also glanced at her approval before smiling.

"What ever you say cowboy, what ever you say" Mush shook his head and sat on the bench to his right.

Mary really liked theses characters she had been placed with. They were funny and charming and they were not from Martha's Vineyard either. The people in Martha's Vineyard were either filthy rich or reasonably poor and they did not have personalities. Cowboy and Mush were sociable and had charisma. Mary on the other hand was not outgoing at all, she was more of a thinker than a talker and as Cowboy and Mush fell in to a childish argument all she could do was smile and laugh. Mary felt a tap on her shoulder; she turned around only to see the man from the ticket booth, his face was sweaty and shinning ever so brightly. Mary smiled politely at him, fighting back giggles.

"Hello, can I help you?" she asked, her voice full of humor.

In back of her, she could hear both Cowboy and Mush's falling on top of each other with laughter

"Uh… I was wonderin'… I got a break… in an hour if you'd like… like… to wait till then?"

Mary glanced at his nametag, "Mr. Sullivan, I would truly love to go out with you but we are leaving on the next train. I promise when I get back though. Also, wouldn't your wife be a little angry that you were seeing other women?" Mary asked sweetly, the man became even more nervous and fiddled with his tie

"I…I… suppose that's true. Well ill see you when you get back…miss. Good-bye…"

As soon as the man was out of earshot Mary burst out laughing.

"I…I… was just ah… wonderin if…if you wanna go…go…go out on a da… dat…date" Mush said mockingly. Cowboy started to imitate him as well, pretending to clutch an imaginary tie and twirl it around, loosening it and tightening it.

"Say Mary, how did you know that fellows name? And how did you know he was married; judging by his experience with girls I would have to say that he was single." Cowboy said modestly.

"I read his nametag, Mr. Hooper R.J. Sullivan of Chilmark, Massachusetts. Been an employee for 5 years. I figured he had settled down cause of his nervousness in betraying his wife and his years in the train station."

Mush rubbed his head "wow you sure is smart Mary."

"Mary… Mary…Mary" Cowboy muttered to himself deep in thought, "Ain't that a nursery rime. Something 'bout sheep?"

Recognition spread over Mush's face, "no that's little Bo Peep you fool!"

Cowboy turned to face Mush "well it ain't my fault no one sang me nursery rimes is it…"

"Because you ran away!" Mush cut in.

Cowboy put up his hand in front of Mush's face as if blocking Mush's expressions from his vision so that he could focus on Mary.

"What I'm trying to say is that you need a new name. What do you like to do? What are your hobbies…?"

"I like to write stories," Mary blurted out, before shying away

"… Besides writing and reading and all that crap?"

Mary thought a moment, "I like to swim" she said finally shrugging.

"Good, good, that's a good start ok now Mush… swimming names."

Mush thought for a moment "ah…ah… swimmer"

"No to cliché…"

"Ah… backstroke… flipper…"

"Flippers good, it's good but again its cliché, besides we can do better…" Cowboy put in helpfully.

"Is this your hobby, making up names?" Mary asked judgingly.

"No we're just good at it."

"Finn! Finn is it!"

"We only get this into it when we like the person we're naming" Cowboy winked before turning his attention back to Mush,

"Mush! That's perfect! Good job, ok now ah… Finn."

Mary looked awkwardly at Mush "isn't Finn a guys name?" she asked disapprovingly.

"First of all, its 'ain't Finn a guys name', not isn't."

Mary shrugged; she had studied grammar very hard in school and was not prepared to loose her 'habit' so to speak.

"And second of all you're in guy's clothes. All you have is a nightgown besides what you're wearing so I guess from now on you're publicly a guy but don't worry, we don't go public much. You know there's that whole problem involving not being legal train riders. Kind'a catches up with ya, well at least the bulls do." Mush replied sarcastically to her.

"And it's also probably safer for you to be a guy… you know. I mean no lady has ever rode the Canada bound before but I hear they get a lot of crap from the bulls, more then we do which is saying a lot." Cowboy added in, in a serious tone with out a note of humor.

"I mean if you don't want to I guess you can … wear a nightgown… all day and night… every day of the week." Mush said in a questionable voice.

"Well then I have no other choice," Mary said gallantly.

She looked out at the sky, noticing how dark it had become, as the day had grown older. Suddenly the clanging of wheels was heard in the distance. Cowboy, Mush and Mary stood there for a moment while the sound registered.

"Shit! She doesn't know how to get on!" Cowboy yelled over the roar of the tracks

"Ok, quickly tie up your hair and um… when the train comes just hold on to me and I will pull you up."

Mary nodded solemnly. Mush was already beside the tracks, so close to the speeding train another inch would have taken the skin off his face. The train stopped for a moment in the station before pulling out. As soon as the train began speed up, Mush grabbed on to one of the many handles on the side of a storage boxcar. He hauled himself aboard the train and reached for Cowboy hand. Cowboy was soon on the small catwalk of the car, his hand reaching out towards Mary's. She grasped it tightly and felt her arm socket lurch as the train pulled her aboard.

"Come on! In to the car, go!" Cowboy shouted over the wind, though his voice died disappeared in the rushing wind.

He held the door to the car opened as Mary slipped inside, followed by Mush. The car was quite big, around the size of Mary's schoolroom though not quite as warm. A cold wind blew through the gaps in the floor and wallboards. Mary shivered and Mush put his hands on her shoulders.

"You'll get used ta the chill soon enough."

There were other boys in the car who seemed to recognize Mush and Cowboy for one beckoned Mush over. The boxcar had blankets stretched out upon the floor only making the many cigarette butts more noticeable. Each blanket was littered with small brown burns in their fabric, Mary guessed from the cigarettes although the wind blowing through the room seemed to eliminate any odor. S

Stacked in the corner of the room were five cots, each with its own amount of stains and bleaches.

"We ask for food and you to bimbos bring us junkie?" one of the boys said harshly to Mush and Cowboy. The boy was reasonably tanned, with green eyes and long, scraggly blonde hair. A weathered black eye-patch covered his right eye.

"Hey, hey this ain't no junkie."

"Then what is it?" another boy asked almost uncaringly as he looked Mary up and down, he too had long messy hair though his was brown. The boy had pale completion like Mary though his eyes were a darker brown.

"She's a girl you nim-wit" Cowboy said offensively, smacking the blonde boy on the side of his head.

The brown haired boy started laughing, "you is officially the first girl to ever set foot on #2 Canada bound box car."

The other boy chuckled as well, looking her over like Cowboy had done had done.

"Yeah, you is. What's your name lady?"

"Mary Beth Hatchard" Mary said quietly, intimidated by these outgoing hobos.

"No but that's her old name," Cowboy cut in "her new one is Finn, Mush made it up." Mush beamed in his seat next to the blonde haired boy.

"Well, I'm Blink and this here is Skittery." The blonde hair boy stuck out his hand for Mary to shake and so did the other boy. "Now let me give you the grand tour of your new home or Canada bound as we like to call it" The blonde haired boy named Blink stood up, his arms outstretched as if to make the room seem larger and more magnificent. "Here is the drunkard station."

"What are you talking about we get drunk every where." Cowboy said loudly, now seated next to Mush in leg's old seat.

"Here are the bindles which we sleep on. You'll have Specs's I suppose," he said looking at the 3 boys on the ground to make sure it was all right with them

"Won't Specs mind me using his cot?" Mary asked pleasantly, taking off her cap and putting it on a crate near where Blink was standing

"Ah… no…no I'm sure it would be alright by him," he said quietly, looking at the boys once more before moving on. "Here we have our food supply which is now basically empty because two certain bums brought a someone back and not a something!" he glared sarcastically at Mush and Cowboy who shrugged

"If you ask me, she is better then any food" Mush said, giving a short laugh.

Blink turned his attention back to Mary, "we do have booze though, we always have booze so any time you want, just go right ahead and get yourself drunk as hell" Blink said pleasantly, sitting down next to Skittery.

Cowboy glanced at Mary and, seeing that she was left standing, contemplating in whom to sit next to, motioned to a seat next to him.

Mary gladly took his offer. She felt very uncomfortable in her new environment; the boys all seemed to know each other so well and there was also the fact that they were all men and she was a lady.

"So what do you think of the boys?" Cowboy asked casually after she had taken a seat.

"Their all so intriguing. Are you sure your friend won't mind me sleeping on his cot, I mean where will he sleep?" Mary asked concerned that she was causing some sort of problem by staying with them.

"Oh Specs? Well… you could ask him yourself."

Mary looked around the car confused. She looked back at Cowboy who pointed skyward, a mischievous smile planted painfully across his face.

Mary looked up at the ceiling of a boxcar. There was a large hole, about the size of a pillow punched out of the ceiling, creating a sunroof or skylight.

"Hey Specs!" Cowboy shouted into the, now, night sky. "How are you buddy?"

Blink joined in "we have a girl with us now,"

"Yeah, she a real beauty, you would like her; Smart, knows books and grammar," Mush shouted up into the air, "she was wondering if she could use your cot? I said it was all right but…"

The air was silent; the night did not talk back to the boys. Cowboy, Blink and Mush continued to shout up into the sky. They shouted random parts of their day into the hole in the ceiling; their tone was as real as if they were receiving a response.

"C'mon you guys stop it!" Skittery muttered from the corner, his chin resting on his knees. He threw a small pillow at Cowboy before lowering his head once more.

"Ok, bye Specs. Talk to you again soon," Cowboy shouted before sitting down and leaning his head back against the wall in an exasperated fashion, as if the day's work had over powered him.

Mush and Blink repeated similar farewells before turning away as if nothing had happened out of the ordinary.

Skittery looked deep in thought, as did all the other boys but not such a degree as Skittery did. Mary sat down, her placement amongst the boys once more confused and torn. The room was silent.

Suddenly she was longing for home, a sudden urge rushed over her, for her mother and siblings. She desperately wanted to hold something, hold something so tight that it just popped her out of the car. The car with 4 boys who seemed knows each other so well.

The car where people have names that convey their personalities, booze is the only unlimited resource and people shout to the dead as if they are still alive. The Canada bound felt like a cult, with rules and regulations, allies and enemies, a foreign language she must master.


	2. Chapter 2

Finn felt a hand roughly shaking her from her slumber. For a moment she was confused at this new source of alarm clock but soon felt the rocking of the moving train and remembered her mothers ring was at least 100 miles away by now.

"Finn, wake up!"

The hand shook her again.

She slowly opened her eyes and turned over so that she could see her disturbers face.

It was Skittery. He had bags under his eyes and was looking was hungary.

"C'mon," he said casually, helping Finn to her feet and letting the light blanket drop to the floor next to the cot.

Finn had changed into her nightclothes before she had gone to bed the night before, though now, as dawn began to break she regretted doing so.

The boxcar was windy and the wood at her feet was chilled with a small layer of January snow. Finn rubbed her arms, trying to make the goose bumps disappear.

"The boys already left to get some grub but I volunteered to stay, it gave me time to paint.

"You like to paint?" Finn asked, catching up to his brisk walk

"Yeah, can't get enough of it. Its hard to find time or room, living with four other boys so I figured this would be a good opportunity" he said, handing Finn her day clothes and looking away.

Judging by his strong accent, Finn guessed he had family in New York and she wondered why she hadn't noticed it the night before.

She slipped on her trousers and pulled her shirt over her head.

"Well, I like to read…"

"So Ive heard." Skittery interrupted looking away as she changed.

"Yes, and I have read a lot about painters."

"So'v I," Skittery said softly, finally turning around as Finn tied up her last shoe.

"You know, the Liberated Artists Union is giving money to painters to make work. Theyre is giving it to writers as well and that's why I have heard of it."

She stood up and Skittery looked at her almost exasperated

"And what's ya point?"

"Why are you here if the money is out there?" Skittery looked out the partially opened doorway of the car

"Same reasons you are." His voice was casual.

Finn touched her cheek where her scar was and Skittery nodded, removing his overcoat, pulling down his suspenders and unbuttoning his shirt to reveal numerous scratches and lashes on his back.

Finn winced and pulled up her pants leg to uncover the scars on her thigh.

After slipping on his shirt and jacket once more, Skittery looked out the doorway window, deep in thought.

"Do the others know?" Finn asked generally, breaking the silence.

"Ive woiked hard to keep mine secret. I know that Cowboy knows about yours though."

"And how do you know he does?" Finn asked mischievously.

"Well, ya wouldn't be here if he didn't…" his voice trailed off "Finn, do ya notice any difference in me n' the guys and the other rail riders n' hobos?"

Finn shook her head no, she had not come across many hobos in her life and the few times she had, they were old geezers who had long white beards; not young, sociable boys.

"Ya see usually hobos either ride the rails until they find work or a good place ta live. They hop a couple trains; make some bread in one town and try ta hold out a job for at least a month. But Cowboy, Mush, Blink and I… we're a different breed of hobos."

Skittery slowly leaned back against the wall, trying to word his next sentence

"We're runnin' away from someth besides the economy. Cowboy asked you to come with him on the train because he knew that you were part of this special breed, even if you did not realize it."

Skittery slowly sat down against the wall and Finn sat next to him

"Maybe Cowboy could feel it from ya stance or maybe he saw the way your hand shook when men came close, I dunno. I my self could tell from experience. "

"What about every one else? They all look pretty emotionally stable to me."

Skittery turned to look out the window as if he had just noticed the train they were on was still moving forward.

"We can always meet up with them in New York." He muttered quietly to him self before speaking to Finn

"Well, Blink's mutha' died and left him with his step sisters to take care of. I don't believe he ever had a pop; maybe died before he was born. His step fatha' was a drunkard, wandered off sometime bout ten years ago, never came back."

Wit's strong New York accent grew clearer and clearer as he talked to Finn and again she wondered why she hadn't noticed it before.

"Cowboy found him 3 years back, nearly starving at a junkyard.

" Mush's, I think had just gotten out of the slammer when he and Cowboy first met. Maybe he was in there for riding the rails or just takin' a courtesy call... I dunno since it was before they foun' me, two years ago or three.

" Cowboy probably had it the worst. He was kicked out of his house when he joined the Dead End Kids, local gang of youngins. Cowboy was ten when this happened and he went to stay with his grandmother. He went back to his house one day to see if his parents would take him back. His father bruised him up pretty bad when he saw his face, talked bout havin' ta pay neighbors ta keep them off his back. Cowboy ended up in the hospital; broken jaw and leg. Cowboy once told me dat his face was so smashed up; you couldn't even tell who was behind the blood and scars. Ribs bruised maybe but again I don't really know da details. Got better eventually and by his 12th the birthday he was back on the streets. Been on the streets ever since. Recruited Blink, Mush and me.

"We've had woik every now and again. Been newsies for the last couple of years but we finally came back to the rails a few months ago. "

Finn smiled though she still wasn't satisfied.

"And what about you, where's your family?"

Skittery leaned his head back against the wall

"Dat would be an awfully long conversation." She nodded for him to go on; that she didn't mind the longevity.

He closed his eyes as if summoning the images of his past into words

"My family was in New York City but I don't think theyre still there. The scars are years old, from when I left my family. My old man got pretty angry when my brother and I announced our departure; we had had enough of his violence and rules. Sliced us up something bad with his belt though he knew he couldn't keep us from going; our mutha' was on our side and she din' even know about the abuse."

Finn was surprised at how similar their situations were.

"So, we left, stowed away on the back of a farm truck next ta bunch of sheep. Two months later I found my self on a train some where in Kansas, cold, starving, lonely and too drunk to know where the train was going; as depressed and hurt as I had been in New York."

He looked out the crack in the wooden door once more.

Finn had been right the night before in saying that the Canada bound was a cult. Although this cult was not like ones she had heard about. They were not hypnotists and people could come and go as they pleased, though no body would want to stay unless they were meant to be part of the group.

No joyful person would want to stay around these deprived boys. Only people who were deprived as well could bare the depression in their stories and Finn assumed that Cowboy considered her one of these deprived people.

"Wait, so where is your brother?" she asked just remembering the gap in his story.

Skittery pointed his finger subtly upwards towards the 'skylight', almost embarrassed in mimicking Cowboy gesture from the night before.

Finn nodded solemnly.

"His foot got caught on da couplers last month; the train pulled him under da wheels."

She gave him sorry glance before he went on, his accent a little less visible as he lowered the volume of his voice even more

"They don't usually talk ta him out loud. Every once and a while they do, when they see somethin' he would have liked. Its spontaneous, they jus all of a sudden start talkin' to da air. Sometimes I wonder if they really know that they are talking out loud or if its like sleepwalking and it feels internal. I talk ta him in me head and I know it's in my head because he actually talks back."

"My older brother died as well." Finn said quietly.

She regretted bringing up the subject of her own family though she could not resist the urge to let him know she understood what it was like to lose someone you can relate to.

"No one talks about his death, my mom pretends that he joined the army and is out there helping our country. My dad just doesn't talk about it. It's a subject no one brings up. My siblings… they all believe my father killed him, bashed him in the head with a shovel and then threw his body in a ditch where the cops found him. You see, he used to have scratches and scars too, so the police figured he was a depressed child who had committed suicide but we all know that's not at all true. Of course he was depressed but not to such an extent. After my brother died, my father moved on to me."

Finn could tell that Skittery felt a connection for he inched closer to her.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly.

"I shouldn't be complaining, I mean I'm pretty much safe and in a care free environment."

Skittery slowly slipped his hand in her grasp and she softly cradled it.

His hands were calloused and hard. Dirt covered his fingers and black grease from the train was layered on his palm. It did not disgust Finn though, she was used to dirt.

"Hey we better get going, we wouldn't want dem ta leave New York with out us."

Finn nodded. She looked around the car and realized that certain things were missing. Three of the cots were gone as well as the 'drunkard station' and its contents. The majority of the pillows and blankets were gone as well.

Skittery seeing her confusion said shortly

"They took most of da things but we's gotta carry our part as well."

"Wait we are getting off? Why cant they just hop on this train when we arrive at the station?"

"Well we gotta eat don't we?" she took a breath

"So your saying that the Canada bound # 2 car is not the same car, its switched for a different one every day?"

He smiled impishly as he started to fold the blankets in to a neat pile.

Finn had not planned on having to hop cars often. She had figured that they would stay in the same car and maybe get off every two months to restock their food supplies and even then she herself would not get off.

Now more then ever, after hearing the tragic tale of specs, she did not want to go close to the catwalk. Especially Mary, the person whose most dangerous feat was riding a horse bareback.

How could she possibly jump on to a moving train safely when experienced riders, such as Skittery's brother, had killed them selves trying to do just the same.

Finn tried to calm her nerves down by flipping througha stack of papers at her feet.

As she went through the papers, she discovered that the majority of the documents were tickets and fines, made out by bulls.

She told Skittery of her discovery and he smiled.

"Not havin' a job o' home does set ya back quite a bit financially. We'll get around ta paying them eventually though… maybe in the next 20 years or … 30?" he said shrugging before telling her throw them out the car door.

Finn threw out the fines, desperately wanting to inform Skittery of the trouble he might face for not paying them, though she did not want to be the know-it-all who spoils every ones fun.

"We have to get off before the train stops or we'll get caught when da bulls search the cars for bums. They don't usually have the balls ta walk the trains while there're moving, though that only means that they are even more thorough in their check when the train stops."

Finn hugged her rolled bindle close to her body, trying to force all of her nerves into its flat matter. Skittery stuck his head somewhat out the partially opened door to see where they were in comparison to the station.

The scenery outside there car began to change from lushes, snow covered fields and quiet paths to gray trees and empty roads as if the depression that hung so greatly over New York was effecting the nature as well.

Skittery sat down once more and Finn did the same, assuming that they were not as close as Skittery had thought. The boxcar was silent and Skittery opened the door a little more so that his body could fit through if necessary.

Finn was surprised at his lack of caution while the train was in motion. Seeing that his brother had just passed away from a related accident she had figured he would not want to suffer the same fate.

"Do you have any pictures of him?" Finn asked politely, curious for his answer yet also wanting to fill up the silence.

"I've got one that I drew, its too good but it should give ya an idea of what he looked like."

He rummaged through a stack of painting to his right. All the paintings were painted on wood and as Finn looked around she noticed a couple boards missing in random crates and barrels around the car.

He found the one he was looking for and repositioned him self so that he was sitting closer to her, his presence hanging over her right shoulder.

"This was from 8 months ago though his look din' change much."

The drawing was beautiful though it was mostly charcoal based.

Skittery brother looked very much like Skittery him self in that he had brown shaggy hair and high cheekbones. He looked more mature or maybe the coloring gave her that impression.

"He was handsome wasn't he," Finn stated looking the painting up and down in admiration

"I wouldn't be able to tell you, but back in school, lot of girls fancied him." Finn smiled

"You two look a lot alike,"

He smiled as well and looked up at her, their eyes interlocking

"I suppose I should take that as a compliment." Skittery face was dirty and his hair needed to be washed and cut desperately.

She broadened her smile to show that it was a compliment with out having to actually say the words.

"Hey, why do they call you Skittery any way?" she said suddenly finding the situation awkward

"Because I get ne...ne...nervois a lot" he stuttered jokingly. " Really I'm not quite sure. At da time of my namin', Cowboy listed, along with Skittery, nerve, bummer, angst. In reality, I am just more responsible then these other dopes. I gots street smarts. In fact before you came along I was much smarter then any of those bastards, now I guess I'm da second smartest."

"But I'm not named Skittery am I? You have to have the name so play the game. Besides I like to swim more then do…smart… people … hobbies."

"I know a place we can swim once we find da guys. It's a hole filled wid grimy water but don't worry it wont affect ya health."

Finn smiled gratefully, placing the painting back on to the pile of wood where Skittery had picked it up.

"Are we taking them with us?" she asked pointing to the stack.

"Nah, never do." Skittery looked out the door again and jumped up off the ground, quickly picking up his bindle.

Finn did the same assuming that they were in New York.

She stole a glance out the door and saw the station slowly coming into view. It was a big station, with aluminum signs and a red wood platform. In all it was more elegant and sophisticated then the run down station in Martha's Vineyard though it also looked deprived financially judging by the lack of people waiting on the platform.

"Ok, I want you to follow me and sit down right at the edge of the of the door way. When I say jump we will both jump off and run, head straight for the doors" Skittery said pointing at a set of doors that were slowly coming into view.

Finn nodded and slowly inched her way to the edge of the door. The train lurched back and forth as it began to halt.

"Jump!" Skittery shouted aggressively, pushing himself off the floor of the car with his hands.

Finn did the same, falling on to her stomach and running to the door, hugging her bindle to her body.

"You're a natural," Skittery said appraisingly as he brushed the dirt off his own jacket.

She smiled "next train trick to master: getting on." Skittery laughed, opening the double doors for her entrance.


End file.
